


Empty Nest Syndrome

by lil_1337



Category: Breakfast with Scot
Genre: M/M, Parenthood, WAFF, sap
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-03
Updated: 2013-07-03
Packaged: 2017-12-17 12:59:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,304
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/867812
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lil_1337/pseuds/lil_1337
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for <a href="http://smallfandomfest.livejournal.com/profile"><img class="i-ljuser-userhead"/></a><a class="i-ljuser-username" href="http://smallfandomfest.livejournal.com/"></a><b>smallfandomfest</b> fest 13.</p><p>Prompt: Breakfast With Scot - Eric/Sam & Scot - Scot wants to go on a middle-school theatre trip. Eric and Sam finally give their OK, but they have a hard time coping with his absence.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Empty Nest Syndrome

“Please, please, Sam! Carla's going and so is Joey. This is a very important part of my social development. If I'm left behind I might be stunted forever.”

“We can't have that.” Sam's dry tone held amusement and something warmer even though his expression remained unchanged. “I need to talk to Eric then the three of us can sit down and discuss it.”

“Discuss what?” Eric strolled into the kitchen, his tie hanging loose around his neck and a mostly full bottle of beer in his hand.

Sensing the arrival of a possible ally Scot turned his full puppy eyed charm on Eric. “The theater trip. We're going to see a play, take a tour behind the scenes and meet with some of the cast, plus stay in a hotel over night. Oh, Eric, it would be the best time of my life! Just imagine, crisp white sheets and tiny soaps that fit right into your hand. I just have to go!”

Eric raised an eyebrow at Sam who remained silent, eyes twinkling even as his frown deepened. “When is this magical trip?”

“In three weeks.” Scot answered before Sam could formulate a reply. “I have money from my birthday and Christmas, plus you could keep my allowance for the next year to pay for it. George jr will let me do yard work for him and...”

“It's not the money, Scot.” Sam's voice cut through Scot's fevered speech bringing it to an abrupt halt. The look of confusion and wariness stabbed at Sam and he sighed, rubbing his eyes to cover his reaction. Part of him was heart broken and the other part furious that Scot was obviously used to being told no strictly on the basis of money.

“How many kids are going and what about chaperones?” Eric set down his bottle and turned his attention to Scot picking up to give Sam a moment to collect himself.

“All of my advanced theater class.” Scot scrunched his nose, his lips moving as he counted. “Ten boys and fifteen girls plus Mrs. Williams who is a woman and therefore neither a boy or a girl. Also Coach Meyers, Carla's mom, Joey's dad and some other moms and dads. Please, Eric! I'll be good forever, I promise!”

“What do you say Sammy?” Eric's tone was light and teasing though the look he shot Sam said he had no idea what the correct response should be.

“I don't know.” Sam pursed his lips, considering. “What do we know about these people? Does any of them have medical training? What if something happens and Scot needs to come home early, how will that be arranged? What are the sleeping arrangements and what means will they use to mediate any conflicts that might arise?”

Eric's eyebrows rose with each question until they were buried into his bangs. “Stop thinking like a lawyer for a minute and think like a dad. Didn't you ever go on class trips when you were in school?”

“I went to a band competition once.” Sam smiled at the memory. “It was a lot of fun. Though we did get into trouble several times.”

“There you go. Being away from home once in a while is good for a kid.” Eric pulled off his tie and tossed it on the table before wandering over to the stove to see what was cooking.

Scot slowly from Sam to Eric and back again, hope warring with caution on his face. “So I can go? Sam?”

Sam sighed and gave Eric's back a dirty look. “Yes, you can go, but we are going to discuss appropriate behavior and I am going to help you pack.”

Squealing in a tone so high that it sent neighborhood dogs into a frenzy Scot hugged Sam and then Eric before dashing for the stairs. Over his shoulder he yelled. “I have to call Carla and Joey and I need to start packing. Oh my God, Oh my God!”

“I thought we were going to discuss these kinds of things before we made a decision.” Sam's tone was all displeased lawyer trying to remain rational in the face of a challenging client.

“That's what we were doing. Discussing it.” Eric grinned, gave Sam a kiss on the cheek and wandered back out of the room leaving a bemused and still annoyed Sam to finish making dinner.

 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

 

“What's the score?” Sam flopped down on the couch next to Eric who was working his way through a peanut butter sandwich. With regular movements he raised it to his mouth, biting, chewing and swallowing without really noticing what he was eating.

“Three to two, Leafs.” Eric popped the last bit of bread into his mouth before picking up the remote and pausing the game. “What's up Sam? You've been wandering around all morning and now you want to talk about hockey. Either something is bothering you or _my_ Sam has been abducted by aliens and you're a replacement clone like in The Last Starfighter.” Grinning he reached out and ran a hand over the back of Sam's neck then laughed. “No pod stem. That's a good sign.”

Sam laughed then snuggled up, leaning against Eric. “It's too quiet. I spend most of my time at home wishing for just a few minutes of peace and to work and now I have an entire weekend and I can't work because its too quiet. It seems like there is something I should be doing, but I can't remember what it is.”

“That's why I was watching the game.” Eric pointed to the time stamp in the lower right hand corner of the screen that gave the date and time the game had aired. It was clearly marked two weeks prior. “It was this or golf and I hate golf. I don't know how anyone can play it. Seriously, it should be outlawed as a crime against humanity.”

“What did we do with our time before Scot moved in?” Sam shifted so he was leaning more against Eric than before and swung his legs up on the couch. “We were always busy. I distinctly remember being busy and wishing I had more time to get things finished.”

“You refinished the house. That took a lot of time. That and you worked too much.” Eric looked over at Sam and smiled. “You've always done everything you could to make sure your clients got the best deal possible.”

“My clients deserve everything I can get them.” Sam smiled back, warmth and affection clear on his face. He lifted a hand to stroke Eric's face, absently rubbing clean a spot of peanut butter with his thumb. “We should go out. We haven't done that in a while. Some place with an extensive wine list and no kids' meals. Maybe a movie afterward that has gratuitous sex and violence and requires us to prove we are old enough to see it.”

“Are you asking me out on a date?” Eric's grin had taken on the impish quality that Sam found both annoying and attractive. “I'm not easy no matter what you heard. I can't be had for the price of a fancy meal, a bottle of wine and a movie.”

Sam snorted. “No, usually it takes hockey on the tv, a beer or two and take out.”

“Exactly. I'm a man of refined tastes and I know what I like.” Eric's eyes locked with Sam's and held as a look of hungry promise passed between them.

“Maybe you would like to join me upstairs.” Sam twisted out from under Eric's arm and rose to his feet. He offered Eric a hand then tugged him up to stand. “I just remembered one of the things we used to do and I think it might even help with how quiet the house is.”


End file.
